Two years after their fine debut album, SiX by SiX — Saga guitarist Ian Crichton, Saxon drummer Nigel Glockler and veteran vocalist/bassist/keyboardist/arranger Robert Berry — release their sophomore effort Beyond Shadowland on April 26th. The 11 new tracks hit hard and strong, stretching out in an eclectic variety of directions but always stuffed full of upbeat lyrics, killer melodic hooks, thrillingly crunchy guitar work, and tough, grounded percussive grooves.
What with the pre-release singles “The Arms of a Word” and “Obiliex” – the pronunciation of the latter somehow becoming a running gag below) already out in the wild, Robert Berry – who I first interviewed in 2022 – was ready and eager to talk about the band’s working process, their hopes for the new album, and their coalescing plans for live work! (One confirmed live date was announced after our time together, at New Jersey’s annual ProgStock festival in October.) As before, Berry proved gracious, genial, and genuinely interested in my reactions to SiX by SiX’s latest material. The video of this interview is right below, with a transcript plus the videos of the singles following the jump.
2024 is out of the gate hot — three of the albums below are already on my Year-End Favorites list, and there are no duds in this bunch! As usual, purchase links are embedded in the artist/title listing, with a partial or complete streaming preview below the review.
Anchor and Burden, Extinction Level:MoonJune Music mainman Leonardo Pavkovic has labelled this brutal beauty “uncompromising progressive avantgarde doom-jazz post-metal”. That pretty much covers it! Kicking off with opener “Fractured Self” and “Body Expansion”, touch guitarists Markus Reuter and Alexander Dowerk spend the next hour launching knife-edged slabs of sonic concrete into sub-orbit; drummer Asaf Sirkis pulverizes any semblance of a steady beat into terrifying quick marches (“Mutual Assured Destruction”), hyperactive polyrhythms (“Nine Gates to Dominion”), or just lethal, unanticipated deadfalls; and electronics wizard Bernhard Wöstheinrich provides both breathing space for a comedown, as on the closing “The Crust of This Earth”, and crash pads for droning, sludgy guitar plunges throughout the extended title track. Absolutely bonkers, already a favorite; you may have to be in the right mood for it, but Extinction Level’s free-for-all improv (not far removed from King Crimson’s outer limits) turns out to be a heady, head-banging good time.
The Bardic Depths, What We Really Like in Stories (released March 7): both more direct and more varied than their previous releases, TBD’s third is a first-class album that delivers generously on its title’s promises. Brad Birzer’s graceful lyrics effortlessly transport us into the minds of creators as diverse as Ray Bradbury (“You’ve Written Poetry, My Boy”), Willa Cather (“Old Delights”) and Robert E. Howard (“The Feast Is Over”) — then into the creations themselves (the Orwellian dystopia of “Vendetta”, the postapocalyptic “Stillpoint”, the high adventure of “Whispers in Space”). In turn, Dave Bandana and Gareth Cole’s compositions are appealingly streamlined, giving Cole’s guitars, Bandana’s guitars & synths and Peter Jones’ keys & saxophones plenty of room to shine but never straying into aimless jams. Add a warm vocal blend from the quartet (with Jones and Bandana at the forefront) to Tim Gehrt’s steady, sparkling grooves, and you have a prog album that’s accessible without compromise, thought-provoking without pretension. This one’s charms might sneak up on you, but repeated listens will thoroughly repay your kind attention. (Check out our Bardic Depths roundtable here.)
Big Big Train, The Likes of Us (released March 1): the wonder here isn’t that indefatigable founder Greg Spawton and his international crew have regrouped with such power and panache; it’s that they’ve tackled the struggles and sorrows of recent years head-on, forging them into the band’s most direct, integrated album since Grimspound. From mission statement/overture “Light Left in the Day” through epics “Between the Masts” and “Miramare” to killer ballad “Love’s Light” and finale “Last Eleven”, new singer Alberto Bravin fares forward into the unknown, summoning the essence of friendship and the pain of loss, calling on all in earshot to seize the day. There’s tons of musical variety, too, from the hard-rocking “Oblivion” to the playful “Skates On” and the 12-string weave of “Bookmarks”, with all seven players (five of whom sing) each getting their time to shine. And yes, that brass section pops in at just the right moments, to bring a tear to the eye or lift the spirit as required. Familiar yet fresh, and destined for that year-end faves list, BBT fans can be well satisfied with this latest excursion – and The Likes of Us is well turned out to welcome new Passengers onboard as well! (Check out our interview with Alberto Bravin here.)
Steve Hackett, The Circus and the Nightwhale: Prepare to have your ears pinned back here: Hackett leaps out of the gate with freshly energized songwriting and ferocious guitar work and doesn’t let up throughout this compact, compellingly listenable concept album. The restless opening sprint of “People of the Smoke”, the “Squonk”-like stomp of “Taking You Down” (with standout lead vocal by Nad Sylvan and towering sax from Rob Townsend), the lush orchestral interlude “These Passing Clouds” are all full to bursting with devastatingly melodic, wildly spraying six-string excursions from Steve; even lighter tracks like the harmonious “Enter the Ring” and luxuriant 12-string centerpiece “Ghost Moon and Living Love” overflow with prime solo licks, mind-melting and heart-gripping in equal measure. Add Roger King’s richly scenic keyboards to a succession of marvelously eclectic tunes that waste no time and a coming-of-age narrative that climbs from the gutter to the stars (braced with a dose of the marvelous — there’s that Nightwhale, after all). And voila! You’ve got a Hackett opus that immediately goes to the 2024 favorites list, ranking right up there with Spectral Mornings,At the Edge of Lightor whichever of his 30 solo efforts you prefer best.
No-Man, Housekeeping – The OLI Years, 1990-1994:Ben Coleman, Tim Bowness and Steven Wilson’s earliest singles for One Little Indian (oops, Independent), “Days in the Trees” and Donovan’s “Colours”, are the perfect sneak peek/summation of this compilation’s garishly romantic delights. Just as you start thinking “ho hum, fey indie Nineties dance-pop”, the heavens – or are they the abysses? – open, accompanied by lush squalls of immaculately recorded dissonance. As if Roxy Music and ABC had somehow wound up co-headlining a vaudeville show, Bowness’ desperate vocals and Coleman’s slashing violin work match up swoon for swoon, while Wilson toughens the grooves and hoists ambitious synthesized backdrops, colorful splatters of guitar punctuating the aching pantomimes all the while. Containing the first two No-Man albums (the singles-oriented Loveblows and Lovecries and the ravishing, guest-heavy Flowermouth) plus the early EP Lovesighs, a singles disc and radio sessions, Housekeeping is a generously filled, beautifully designed boxset that points unerringly toward Bowness and Wilson’s more mature achievements (whether together or apart), but is also thoroughly listenable and intriguing in its own right.
The Pineapple Thief, It Leads to This: more badass guitar loops and riffs (spaghetti westerns and surf music entwined in a Steve Reich soundscape); more bleak musings on our pervasive inability to connect, crooned with Bruce Soord’s trademark tenderness and fury; more moments of tasty, laterally-inflected drumming from Gavin Harrison. The current edition of the Thief’s fourth studio album is its own self-contained world, set in motion by the Soord/Harrison team’s moody interplay and rotating on Jon Sykes and Steve Kitch’s steady axis; undeniably of a piece with their recent catalog, and all the better for it. If none of the eight songs particularly stand out, they’re all honed to sleek perfection, building through seductive, bracing miasmas of dread and determined pursuits of flickering light to the knockout punch of the last two tracks. Whatever nightmare Soord is sleepwalking through, his eyes and heart are wide open as he edges forward, with Sykes, Kitch and Harrison urging him on all the while. (Soord’s recent “unplugged” solo CD/DVD, the already out-of-print Caught in the Hum, is an even more distilled example of this melancholy, coolly yearning aesthetic.)
Note: Artist/title links go to purchase options; streaming previews follow reviews.
Mary Halvorson, Cloudward: Trailblazing guitarist Halvorson gathers the sextet from her 2022 classic Amaryllis around eight new avant-jazz compositions. Trumpeter Adam O’Farrill and trombonist Jacob Garchik sizzle on opener “The Gate”; Patricia Brennan’s vibraphone lends a rich shimmer to “The Tower”; Nick Dunston launches an epic bass solo to kick off the closing “Ultramarine”. And Tomas Fujiwara? He’s everything you could imagine in one drummer — meditatively punctuating “Unscrolling”, driving the riff-fest “Tailhead” and covering all points in-between. Set these folks loose on their leader’s sinewy, elegant concoctions of yearning and abstraction, and you never know what will happen next. All the while, Halvorson sets the pace on her instrument, with a woody, delay-laced sound and a skittering, percussive style all her own. Whether Halvorson’s and company are swinging like mad on “Collapsing Mouth” or coalescing like electrical static around Laurie Anderson’s guest violin on “Incarnadine”, Cloudward is another head-spinning, laugh-out-loud delight.
Neal Morse, The Restoration — Joseph, Part Two:The conclusion of Morse’s latest rock opera takes Part One’s rough and ready swagger and turns it up to 11, with grit even in the proggiest moments (Jacob’s sons’ vocal fugue a la Gentle Giant on “The Argument”) and fresh muscle propelling the Latin groove “Everlasting”. There’s heft to the lyrics too, as the showdown between a newly-powerful Joseph and his off-balance brothers displaces Neal’s usual conversion narrative. (Don’t worry, though; reconciliation and revival are just a title track away.) With tight melodic/thematic connections to The Dreamer and a beefy sound recalling George Harrison’s All Things Must Pass and Joe Cocker’s Mad Dogs and Englishmen, The Restoration is also a spectacular vocal showcase; ensemble highlights include Ted Leonard’s emotive Judah and the Nick D’Virgilio/Ross Jennings cameos as Pharaoh’s butler and baker, and Morse puts his newly darkened tone to thrilling use at dramatic highpoints like “I Hate My Brothers”. Together, the Joseph albums are easily my favorite Morse-related releases since The Similitude of a Dream and The Great Adventure, and The Restoration goes straight to my Official Faves List for the new year.
PAKT, No Steps Left to Trace: Another year, another heaping helping of cutting-edge free improvisation from MoonJune Records, courtesy of indefatigable impresario Leonardo Pavkovic! Now in their third year as a collective, bassist Percy Jones, guitarist Alex Skolnick, drummer Kenny Grohowski and guitarist/electronicist Tim Motzer unleash their first double album, created entirely from scratch both in the studio and live. It’s a genuinely explosive set, especially when Jones (best known from Phil Collins’ 1970s fusion band Brand X) ramps up the double-time grooves and his compatriots lock on! But the intensity doesn’t slacken when the music spaces out, either; listening hard and leaning into their deep, uncanny sense of interplay, PAKT also conjures some of the most arresting ambient jams I’ve come across recently. Bursting every genre boundary you can think of, No Steps Left to Trace isn’t for the musically faint of heart — but, for those with ears to hear, it’s a trip well worth taking.
Porcupine Tree, Closure/Continuation. Live Amsterdam 7/11/22: The show I saw in Chicago a couple of months before but bigger, scaled up for packed European arenas instead of partially-filled Stateside auditoriums and rush-released on video before Christmas. The sum of all the prog-metal parts here is flat-out engaging: Gavin Harrison’s percussive impossibilities and Richard Barbieri’s synth squelches ground Steven Wilson’s driven singing and sardonic patter, while utility players supreme Randy McStine and Nate Navarro slam the songs home. Newer material stacks up well against PT’s classics, with pensive slowburns “Dignity”, “Chimera’s Wreck” and “Buying New Soul” nicely offsetting thrashy frequency-eaters “Blackest Eyes”, “Herd Culling” and “Anesthetize”. A solid introduction for anyone who missed the Tree’s initial, spiky flowering, this one will probably resonate deeper with longtime fans (like me) who took Wilson’s long-term “never again” PR onslaught at face value – until we no longer had to.
The Smile, Wall of Eyes: Admit it: does Stanley Donwood’s latest album cover look like a psychedelic Lord of the Rings paperback cover from the 1960s or what? And the title track kick-off of this Radiohead-facing project is every bit as disorienting: a understated bossa nova from Tom Skinner to which a balefully depressive Thom Yorke lyric, tightly wound orchestral smears and Jonny Greenwood’s arhythmic guitar plinks attach themselves like disfiguring barnacles. No forthright kicks to the head in the style of A Light for Attracting Attention here; The Smile beckon us toward dystopia ever so gently — odd-time licks over the ominous vamp “Read the Room”, Greenwood and Skinner gouging a trench below Yorke’s mewling protests on “Under Our Pillows”; the Beatlesque ballad “Friend of a Friend” delicately dissolving the boundary between courage and despair in less than five minutes. In the face of lives ever more trapped onscreen, are the only options self-destruction (as “Bending Hectic’s” dissonant strings erupting into unmistakable Greenwood power chords) or resignation to Technopoly’s embrace (the closing “You Know Me!”)? Whatever our take, Yorke, Greenwood and Skinner once again prove brutally honest guides to the expanse of beauty and abyss of horrors lying before us.
Unless otherwise noted, title links are typically to Spotify or Bandcamp for streaming, with a purchase link following the review.
The Flower Kings, Look At You Now:The Stolt brothers — Michael on bass, Roine on almost everything else — vocalist Hasse Fröberg and drummer Mirko DeMaio crank up that progressive-psychedelic roundabout, and what comes out the chute is yet another spellbinding album-length suite. Snippets from the past and fresh in-studio invention lock together seamlessly; from the merry-go-round kickoff “Beginners Eyes” and the Beatleish “Hollow Men” through renaissance pastoral “The Queen” and blues-edged workout “Scars”, to the closing workout (cinema showoff vamp “Father Sky” into bolero build “Day for Peace” into the closing title epic), TFK don’t miss a trick, evoking vintage Yes and Genesis while always leaning into their own unique, up-to-the-minute spin. This is easily the equal of recent double-disc standouts 2020’s Waiting for America and last year’s By Royal Decree, on track to be one of my favorites at the end of the year. Order from Burning Shed here.
Steve Hackett, Foxtrot at Fifty + Hackett Highlights – Live in Brighton: Yep, this is Hackett’s eighth live album since he made “Genesis Revisited” a regular feature of his live set and rejuvenated his international touring career. But doggone it if he doesn’t make this latest set make worth our while yet again! Leading off with a refreshed solo repertoire (blending in vintage throwbacks “A Tower Struck Down” and “Camino Royale”) that provides new showcases for his talented band (Rob Townsend and Roger King’s wind/keys duet on “Ace of Wands”, Jonas Reingold’s fleet-fingered solo spot “Basic Instincts”), Hackett proceeds to blow out Brighton’s doors with an inspired romp through Genesis’ 1972 breakout album. Especially noteworthy: singer Nad Sylvan, at his personal best on “The Devil’s Cathedral”, “Watcher of the Skies” and a taut, compelling “Supper’s Ready” — well, really all through the night. I thought I might have actually seen Hackett enough (four times!) in the last decade, but this release has me eager to catch this show when he returns to the States next spring. Order from Burning Shed here.
Bruce Soord, Luminescence:Just a songwriter and his gear (plus the occasional electronica and orchestral seasonings); on break from The Pineapple Thief, Soord descends into the postmodern maelstrom, in search of an evasive inner tranquility. A placid, brooding first half of string swells (“Dear Life”), slinky acoustic funk (“Lie Flat”) and pensive melodic sketches (“So Simple”) gathers momentum, only to hit a stalled-out sense of desolation (“Instant Flash of Light”, “Stranded Here”) — which gives Soord’s concluding pleas for human connection (“Read to Me” and “Find Peace”) a vulnerability that chills to the bone, even as it cracks open all the feels. Spacious, shimmering and seductive (kudos to Soord and mastering engineer/TPT bandmate Steve Kitch), Luminescence’s stoic gaze into the heart of darkness packs a serious emotional depth charge. Order from Burning Shed here.
The Who, Who’s Next / Life House (Super Deluxe Edition):Who’s Next is an album that changed my life, and over the decades, it’s developed a reputation as one of rock’s finest moments. But Pete Townshend remains haunted by his original, unrealized post-Tommy concept of The Life House — a gathering place for the outcasts of a nightmarish virtual reality, with rock music as the saving sacrament of a splintered counterculture. Thus, this behemoth box: two discs of impeccable Townshend demos; three discs of session outtakes and singles; two complete, ferocious live sets; and an immaculate spatial audio remix of the final product by (of course) Steven Wilson. Even with exhaustive liner notes and a graphic novel version included, the Life House storyline simply refuses to cohere. But listening to The Who as they wrestle with the throughline, then pitch it away and just slam into “Baba O’Riley”, “Behind Blue Eyes” and “Won’t Get Fooled Again”, you hear the fragments of one man’s overweening ambition transmuted into a furious, majestic rush of sheer hard rock glory. Order from The Who online store.
Wilco, Cousin: 2022’s Cruel Country (my top favorite album of last year) interrupted Wilco’s work on this excursion back into art-pop, made with Welsh multi-instrumentalist/co-producer Cate Le Bon as sidekick. Here Jeff Tweedy’s elusive, folky reflections are splattered with spectral atmospherics and thick blobs of tonal texture; workouts like technicolor opener “Infinite Surprise”, the sunnily chaotic title track and the Wild West gallop of “Meant to Be” sit side by side with morose elegy “Ten Dead”, baroque/dance crosscut “A Bowl And A Pudding” and the compelling meander “Pittsburgh”. The proceedings here lean a bit to the downtempo side, but it’s great to hear Tweedy and his merry crew of cutting-edge players revisit the experimental approach of their Yankee Hotel Foxtrot/A Ghost Is Born era, with the gains of the decades since then thoroughly integrated. Few American bands offer such solid work on such a consistent basis. Order from Wilco’s online store.
Steven Wilson, The Harmony Codex: On which Wilson decides not to pay homage to one particular musical style, bringing his magpie/studio boffin tendencies fully to the fore. Digging into the resources of vintage synthesizers, SW leans on mood more than movement, warming up the temperature from the glacial electronics of The Future Bites a bit, spinning trippy webs of sound braced with a percussive snap. As he flicks through a dizzying array of genres, there are plenty of hypnotic moments (the 1970s spiritual jazz/fusion of “Inclination” and “Invisible Tightrope”, pop nugget “What Life Brings”, imaginary Bond theme “Rock Bottom” with Ninet Tayeb, the langorous switched-on Bach/spoken-word melodrama of the title track), but it can also feel like Wilson is channel-surfing for its own sake; the focus of his best work is only intermittently there, and shorter tracks sometimes peter out instead of paying off. Still, as far and wide as The Harmony Codex wanders, there’s lots to catch the ear as it rambles, and it’s already rewarded repeated listens for me; Wilson remains an artist well worth checking out and reacting to. (So, yeah, Time Lord and I have very different opinions here. And, in line with de gustibus non est disputantum, I’m down with that.) Order from Burning Shed here. (BTW, thanks to the Burning Shed crew & the Royal Mail for getting my copy across the pond to my mailbox in 6 days!)
Unless otherwise noted, title links are typically to Bandcamp for streaming and purchasing, or to Spotify/YouTube for streaming with a additional purchase link following the review.
Neal Morse, The Dreamer – Joseph, Part One: For his latest rock opera a la 2019’s Jesus Christ the Exorcist, Morse and his studio sidekicks swerve toward hard-hitting blues-rock; the usual “Overture” and the narrative tracks “Burns Like A Wheel” and “Gold Dust City” are stuffed to the brim with chunky organ and grunged-up wah-wah guitar work. Wailing vocals from the cast of Christian Progressive Rock stalwarts who play Jacob, Joseph’s brothers and his Egyptian captors slot right in; even the power ballads (“The Pit”) have more grit this time around! And while the second half of the album is stylistically slicker (complete with classical chorale “I Will Wait on the Lord”), the hooky closer “Why Have You Forsaken Me?” pulls all the musical threads together, with Morse’s emotive portrayal of Joseph setting up intriguing possibilities for Part 2 — which, given his extravagant productivity, shouldn’t be too long in coming. Order from Radiant Records here.
Tu-Ner, T-1 Contact Information: Power trio improvisation that takes no prisoners, from another eerily luminous satellite band orbiting the gravity well of King Crimson. Trey Gunn and Pat Mastelotto formed one of Crimson’s most ferocious rhythm sections in the early 2000s, also recording together as TU; here Mastelotto clatters away merrily on his sonic smorgasbord of drums and percussion, while Gunn unleashes the deepest, fattest bass licks known to subwoofers. Above and around the Rhythm Buddies’ brutalist bedrock, Markus Reuter (who’s worked with Mastelotto in the duo Tuner and the trio Stick Men) unleashes slashing, swooping touch guitar lines and dark, brooding soundscape clouds — and when Gunn joins him on the higher end, sparks really fly. Always arresting, intermittently galvanizing, but the track titles (or this review for that matter) can’t really give you a feel for what this sounds like. In other words, you’ve gotta hear what Tu-Ner do to believe it.
Richard Wright, Wet Dream: In case you ever wondered exactly what keyboardist Wright brought to Pink Floyd, his 1978 solo album has it in spades. On tracks like “Mediterranean C” and “Drop In from the Top” lush, floating chord progressions set up open-ended jams by guitarist Snowy White and sax legend Mel Collins; Wright’s reedy voice spins out languid vignettes of detachment and disillusion such as “Summer Elegy” and “Holiday”. All thoroughly gorgeous (especially in this immaculate new Steven Wilson remix), occasionally funky, ineffably melancholy — and not terribly urgent in isolation. Still, you can hear the breathing space that Floyd lost as Wright faded into the background and Roger Waters began repeatedly kicking his audience in the head on The Wall. Order from Rhino Records here.
Ultravox, Quartet [Deluxe Edition]: Speaking of immaculate Steven Wilson remixes: this is his third in a series for the British new wave quartet. Regrouping after early personnel changes, Ultravox struck a quirky vein of New Romantic post-punk on 1980’s Vienna, then pursued cutting-edge Krautrock on the follow-up Rage in Eden. Connecting with legendary producer/5th Beatle George Martin, frontman Midge Ure, violinist/keyboardist Billly Currie, bassist Chris Cross and drummer Warren Cann aimed straight for the charts; Quartet is as pure of a pop album as they ever achieved. The UK singles “Reap the Wild Wind,” “Hymn,” “Visions in Blue” and “We Came to Dance” have an irresistible mix of rock drive, synth-pop color and devil-may-care melody, and the album tracks slot right in; the whole thing’s overripe and melodramatic in the most appealing way. Plenty of extras in the 7-disc box too, with b-sides, rarities, rehearsal tapes, studio monitor mixes and an intense live set all included. Order from the Ultravox store here.
The Harmony Codex – the seventh album by Steven Wilson – is a genre-spanning collection that represents the apotheosis of a life spent fully absorbed in music.
While The Harmony Codex nods to records from Steven Wilson’s recent past, at times echoing the paranoid rumble of 2008’s Insurgentes, the crystalline electronics of 2021’s The Future Bites and the expansive storytelling of 2013’s The Raven That Refused To Sing (and Other Stories), here he has managed to create something entirely unique, a record that exists outside of the notion of genre. And although The Harmony Codex is a record made with spatial audio in mind, it’s not one that needs an elaborate sound system to lift you out of body – two speakers and an open mind will do just fine.
Released on September 29th. Tracklist:
1. Inclination (7.15)
2. What Life Brings (3.40)
3. Economies of Scale (4.17)
4. Impossible Tightrope (10.42)
5. Rock Bottom (4.25)
6. Beautiful Scarecrow (5.21)
7. The Harmony Codex (9.50)
8. Time is Running Out (3.57)
9. Actual Brutal Facts (5.05)
10. Staircase (9.26)
Watch the video for the track “Economies of Scale” below:
Unless otherwise noted, title links are typically to Bandcamp for streaming and purchasing, or to Spotify for streaming with a additional purchase link where available.
Starting with an obvious choice around these parts: Ingenious Devices proves a winning Big Big Train compilation, featuring Greg Spawton’s life-enhancing explorations of humanity’s drive to expand its reach. Vividly orchestrated reworkings of “East Coast Racer” and “Brooklands” join a remix of Grand Tour’s “Voyager” and a stirring live take of “Atlantic Cable” featuring new lead singer Alberto Bravin; the result is a fresh, vital, thoroughly moving suite of prog epics. Recommended without hesitation!
Southern rockers Drive-By Truckers have also reached back — fleshing out their classic 2004 effort as The Complete Dirty South, the double album they originally conceived. Triple-threat guitarist/songwriters Patterson Hood, Mike Cooley and Jason Isbell reel off tale after compelling tale of characters caught in desperate circumstances, torn between bad choices, clinging to vagrant hopes. Their rampaging hard-rock energy, seasoned with delicate country soul balladry, is what elevates the whole concept beyond haunted fatalism to an intense meditation on courage in the face of overwhelming odds. (Having left the DBTs in 2007, Jason Isbell continues to go from strength to strength. His brand-new effort with The 400 Unit, Weathervanes, brings tons of sharp writing and fiery playing to a clutch of deeply empathetic Americana narratives, topped with irresistible choruses and just a pinch of classic rock a la Bruce, The Byrds and Neil Young. Whatever your take on country music, you really shouldn’t miss either of these.)
Also on the reissue front, Gentle Giant’s 1976 effort Interview now has a spruced-up, punchy remix from Steven Wilson (available here) that breezily clarifies the British quintet’s counterpoint vocals (“Design”), interweaving instrumental lines (the title track, frenetically funky closer “I Lost My Head”) and multistylistic hijinks (the unanticipated reggae chorus of “Give It Back”). The Moody Blues’ second release of 1969, To Our Children’s Children’s Children, becomes their third vintage set to get the multi-disc box treatment – though it’s only available digitally in the US. While the album proper leans toward studio psychedelia laced with wispy slow-dance tunes and the odd cabaret flourish, the bonus live tracks (including a complete set from the Royal Albert Hall) reveal the Moodies as quite the stomping rock outfit, slipping the leash on the album’s single “Gypsy,” the encore “Ride My Seesaw” and core tracks from Days of Future Passed.
Live releases have picked up again as well. For their concert video debut Island Live (available through Magenta’s Tigermoth label), Jem Godfrey’s tech-forward quartet Frost* reap a whirlwind harvest of monumentally proportioned prog. With bassist Nathan King and drummer Craig Blundell anchoring the jumpy polyrhythms, guitarist John Mitchell and keyboardist Godfrey eagerly splatter as many unhinged solos as possible across devilishly ingenious harmonic structures, singing their hearts out all the while. (Check out a video sample here.) Prefer calmer (though no less extended) sonic voyages? Lifesigns’ Live in the Netherlands should be just the ticket. Leaning on the music from 2021’s Altitude, keyboardist/composer John Young and guitarist Dave Bainbridge prove steady hands on the wheel, soothing the soul as they scale the majestic heights of “Open Skies,” “Ivory Tower” and “Last One Home”. (One other winner from outside the genre: for a 2021 COVID-time video, Bob Dylan fused his recent rummagings amongst the blues and pre-rock vocal stylings to revitalize his vintage repertoire. The unplugged sorta-soundtrack Shadow Kingdom is the winning result; order it here.)
Speaking of concerts, my prep for a recent show by British “post-Brexitcore” bashers black midi included their latest album Hellfire, which hit plenty of 2022 best-of lists in and out of the prog world. A detailed live review is forthcoming; suffice to say that on record, bm’s dense, anarchic musical interaction tracks all too well with their jaundiced first-person lyrical vignettes — it’s postmodern life as absurd, unstoppable apocalypse. A welcome bonus from that concert was meeting Mike Potter, Renaissance man of the Eastern Seaboard — astrophysicist, former recording studio owner and a whiz on keys, woodwinds and vocals too! Potter’s band Alakazam has just released their fourth disc, Carnival Dawn; it’s a heady conceptual effort that stirs equal parts Ray Bradbury and Stephen King into a bubbling stew garnished with ominous Mellotron, creepy clarinet and saxophone, and the wondrously deranged verbal musings of sundry evil clowns. By the pricking of my thumbs, it’s worth a listen — if you dare. And for a coolly energizing dose of order to chase the above chaos, you won’t do better than Sonar’s new Three Movements. Here Stephen Thelen and company harness a genuinely symphonic tension, building up towering rhythmic edifices that reach dizzying heights; at the climaxes, as guests David Torn on guitar and J. Peter Schwalm on electronics launch volley after volley of improvised ambience, the tension breaks, the clouds clear, and you might just hear the music of the spheres!
(As always, purchase links are included in the artist/title listing, with available online audio/video following.)
This month’s favorites:
The Zombies, Different Game. Led by singer Colin Blunstone and keyboardist Rod Argent, The Zombies notched three hit singles (“She’s Not There”, “Tell Her No” & “Time of the Season”) and a noted album of psychedelia (the misspelled, wildly adored Odessey and Oracle) back in the 1960s. This fourth effort since their late-90s reunion is my unexpected album of the month: a mesmerizing mix of the Baroque, the blues, witty lyrics worthy of the Great American Songbook and pile-driving soul. Argent’s compact yet ambitious songwriting is at a peak here: check out the elegiac, Bach-meets-John Lee Hooker title track; the doo-wop harmonies of “Rediscover”; the Motown/Steely Dan workouts of “Runaway” and “Merry-Go-Round”; the forlorn, string-laden balladry of “If You Would Be My Love” and “I Want to Fly”. And Blunstone can still stir up a furious storm with his R&B-inflected shouting or calm troubled waters with his cool serenity, frequently in the same tune! Mostly cut live in the studio, this is rock classicism at its finest; don’t miss it.
Nickel Creek, Celebrants. On their first outing in nine years, the progressive bluegrass trio riffs off an unlikely source to stunning effect. Inspired by the Beach Boys’ unfinished modular masterpiece SMiLE, mandolinist Chris Thile, violinist Sara Watkins and guitarist Sean Watkins conceived this album as a suite, with songs and instrumentals interconnected by recurring melodies and lyrics. The result flows brilliantly from beginning to end, impelled by these technically formidable, yet invitingly inventive players; the music moves like a flash from supple chamber textures (“The Meadow”) to propulsive rock (“Where the Long Line Leads”), through pensive slices of life (“To the Airport”) to hard-pickin’ instrumentals (such as the widely separated bookends “Going Out . . . Despite the Weather”). And that’s to say nothing of the trio’s thrilling, acrobatic vocal work, both solo and in harmony. Nickel Creek opens my local outdoor amphitheater this summer — and I, for one, can’t wait to hear what they do with this material!
London Brew. As with so much floating in the atmosphere of early 2020, this concept (a London concert celebrating the 50th anniversary of Miles Davis’ groundbreaking fusion album Bitches Brew) mutated along with COVID-19. Instead, we got something that’s arguably better — a dozen of the hottest young British jazzers jamming for three days in the studio, inspired by Miles’ ideas but whipping up a double-length set of free playing that’s more a seething maelstrom than a reverent tribute. Saxophonists Shabaka Hutchings (Sons of Kemet, The Comet Is Coming) and Nubya Garcia are probably most familiar to American listeners. along with drummer Tom Skinner (Sons of Kemet, Radiohead side project The Smile). Their fluidly molten lines and explosive grooves are core elements of this stormy music — but so are Nick Ramm and Nikolaj Torp Larsen’s floating keyboards, Martin Terefe and Dave Okumu’s boundary-bursting guitars, Raven Bush’s arcing violin, Theon Cross’ pumping tuba, and the volatile rhythm section of Tom Herbert and Dan See. The end result spins unpredictably between open, spacious textures and unstoppable torrents of furious sound, delivering 90 minutes of inspired, spectacularly unclassifiable music that never doubles back on itself.
This month’s jazz:
Chick Corea, Now He Sings, Now He Sobs (reissue). thanks to the no-frills Dutch reissue label Music On CD for bringing back this 1968 gem; arguably the first great album in Corea’s mind-boggling discography, it’s a near-perfect blend of lyricism and experimentation, simultaneously honoring and stretching the jazz tradition of the time. Teaming up with bassist Miroslav Vitous (later of Weather Report) and legendary drummer Roy Haynes, Corea weaves seamlessly through classic early compositions (“Matrix”, “Windows”), standards (Thelonious Monk’s “Pannonica”, “My One and Only Love”) and in-the-moment improvisations (the bulk of the original album and the additional session tracks included here). Laced with snatches of iconic Corea moments to come, this is also a solid, satisfying record in its own right.
Rickie Lee Jones, Buried Treasures. You can argue that Jones was always a jazz singer, even on her folk-inflected debut smash and her cinematic follow-up Pirates. (And hey, if Bob Dylan can sing songs made famous by Frank Sinatra . . .) Reunited with her original producer Russ Titelman and fronting a wonderfully sympathetic instrumental quartet plus horns, Jones lovingly leans into ten classic pre-rock songs, her inimitable voice gently caressing the melodies, her sparky gift for bringing the words and sentiments she sings to life blissfully intact. Hushed and intimate, but with rough edges in all the right places, Buried Treasures lives up to its title – and then some.
Rob Mazurek Exploding Star Orchestra, Lightning Dreamers. The latest from Chicago’s headily progressive jazz label International Anthem. Take trumpeter/composer Mazurek’s programmatic depictions of South American landscapes married to the free-form poetry of Damon Locks; add Gerald Cleaver and Mauricio Takara’s sturdy, hip-hop inflected percussion, Jeff Parker’s liquid post-rock guitar, and the atmospheric keys of Craig Taborn and Angelica Sanchez; then run the whole thing through a mixmaster of electronic treatments. Listen to this music with open ears, and you may come out the other side looking at the world around you with new eyes, too. A celebratory, cathartic experience.
This month’s veteran (cosmic?) rockers:
Jethro Tull, RökFlöte. After his revisionist take on the Bible on last year’s The Zealot Gene, Ian Anderson turns his gimlet eye on the old Norse gods, with 12 new songs that portray that mythology’s pantheon and flesh out present day cultural parallels — all in strict poetic meters, no less! The music is welcoming and nimble, often reminding me of classical or Celtic tunes I can’t quite place; Anderson’s flute work is wickedly sharp and his back-up band (including new guitarist Joe Parrish-James) give each tune plenty of oomph. And while Anderson can’t attack this material with the vocal gusto and range he had in Tull’s heyday, he’s learned how to cannily work with his limitations to pull the listener into each vignette. Reminiscent of the Songs from the Wood/Heavy Horses era of Tull, this will charm long-time fans while holding open possibilities for broader appeal.
Stephen Stills, Live at Berkeley 1971. The latest fuel for my ongoing Crosby Stills Nash & Young fixation. No wonder they called Stills “Captain Many Hands”; two-thirds of this archival set feature the man holding an audience of 3,500 spellbound with just his voice, guitar, piano and banjo (oh, and David Crosby chipping in harmonies on two songs). Which makes the impact of the full band finale even stronger, as a six-piece group plus the Memphis Horns power Stills’ singing to soulful heights (while sounding remarkably proggy in the 7/4 section of the epic “Cherokee”). With impressive tunes spanning a broad spectrum of roots music and superb musicianship throughout, this set offers a valuable chance to hear a now-underrated American master at his best.
The Who with Orchestra, Live at Wembley. In 2019, I attended the first concert of Roger Daltrey and Pete Townshend’s foray into playing with a full-blown orchestra; recorded six months afterwards, this double set is now released in advance of The Who taking their symphonic show across Britain this summer. The bugs of that opening night had definitely been ironed out by the time they got to London; the orchestral backing on their “greatest hits plus a couple new tunes” set hits hard consistently, reaching majestic heights on the extended suite from Quadrophenia. And if Daltrey and Townshend’s voices are showing their age at long last, their gutsy commitment to the material triumphs over any moments that reveal the wear and tear. Still, the highlight of the show for me remains the duo’s acoustic duet on the evergreen “Won’t Get Fooled Again”, with Townshend supplying an introduction that pokes holes in any lingering political pretensions: “You provide the [expletive deleted] activism; we’ll provide the soundtrack.”
Box Set of the Month:
Blackfield, An Accident of Stars – 2004-2017. Customer service alerts first: the “limited one-time pressing” of this CD-based set, collecting Steven Wilson and Aviv Geffen’s first five albums under the Blackfield banner plus live audio and video is already sold out, though Amazon and indie stores like Michigan’s Dearborn Music are listing stray copies as available. Oh, and there’s a technical glitch with the included BluRay, which won’t play in American and Asian players. (Though purchasers can get a free replacement BluRay via press@snappermusic.co.uk) All that aside, Blackfield made a whole bunch of gorgeously doomy art pop in those 13 years, with Wilson and Geffen’s vocals adding salty, sour, spicy notes to their melancholy, string-laden soundscapes. While the debut Blackfield album is still my favorite, albums II and V really aren’t that far behind in quality – and there’s good stuff to be found on the lesser albums as well (all available individually through Burning Shed or Bandcamp). So if this piques your curiosity, go for selected highlights – or the complete set! (But be forewarned — KScope has announced a similarly limited box of early Pineapple Thief albums for June release, and a set of Wilson’s No-Man albums with Tim Bowness is rumored to be in the works. So start saving your shekels now . . .)
(A quick note: for new releases, order links are embedded in album titles; online playlists/previews/etc. follow reviews when available. For catalog albums, playlists are linked with titles.)
Once again, I get to second a positive review from Bryan — this time of Fauna, the new release from prog-metallers Haken. Wildly creative, I found this to be the British sextet’s most appealing effort since 2016’s Affinity, stirring in flavors of fusion, postmodern pop, funk, reggae, electronica and even opera alongside one heavy yet tuneful chorus after another. Whether on the short, sharp shocks of “Taurus” and “Lovebite” or the extended journeys of “Sempiternal Beings” and “Elephants Never Forget”, Ross Jennings’ vocals soar, Charlie Griffiths and Richard Henshall’s guitars crunch, Peter Jones’ keys fill what few sonic crevices remain, and rhythm section Conner Green and Raymond Hearne thunder. Play it loud — but look out for multiple, exciting curveballs on every track!
Last month also saw the release of two live albums from veteran bands who’ve made it through the pandemic back to the stage:
Van der Graaf Generator’s The Bath Forum Concert(a CD/DVD/BluRay set) documents the venerable trio’s 2022 return to action; tackling an ambitious setlist that spans their entire career, guitarist/pianist/singer Peter Hammill is as declamatory and vehement as ever, organist Hugh Banton covers the aural spectrum between cathedral and crypt, and drummer Guy Evans locks into or disrupts the grinding soundscapes as the spirit moves him. The beautifully filmed video shows VDGG working hard and watching each other, opting for the flow as they feel it rather than relying on clinical precision; warts and all, this is refreshingly in the moment, a strong show that captures the band’s existential angst and humanistic idealism in full.
Two years after their 2020 Far Eastern tour collapsed around them, King Crimson satellite band Stick Men returned to Japan and blew away any cobwebs that might have accumulated at Osaka’s BB Live venue. The resulting album Umedashowcases avant guitarist Markus Reuter, multi-bassist Tony Levin and percussionist Pat Mastelotto at their aggressive, angular best; whether on long-standing improvisational frameworks “Cusp”, “Schattenhaft” and “Swimming in Tea”, newer compositions “Ringtone”, “Tentacles” and “Danger in the Workplace” or Crimson classics “Red”, “Larks’ Tongues in Aspic Pt. II” or “The Sheltering Sky”, these guys are frighteningly good, whether working up a hair-raising din or backing off for spacey, unexpectedly lush interludes. A great introduction for newbies and a must for fans.
Plus, in February and March the recorded music industry resumed cranking out deluxe box set reissues and compilations — apparently the market of Boomers (like me) with more money than sense isn’t tapped out yet:
Transatlantic’s The Final Flight: Live at L’Olympia is a worthy souvenir of the latest — and last? — tour by our favorite “more never is enough” classic-prog supergroup. Over three hours, Neal Morse, Roine Stolt, Pete Trewavas, Mike Portnoy and sidekick Ted Leonard play every possible note of their ultra-epic The Absolute Universe, plus generous chunks of the band’s first three albums (sorry, Kaleidoscope fans). You might notice some rough edges in Morse’s singing despite a few preemptive downward key shifts, but Transatlantic still delivers the goods without fail — the jaw-dropping ensemble work, knockout solos, choral counterpoint, head-spinning transitions and heart-stopping climaxes just keep coming. And if this is their swan song, thanks for 20+ years of over-the-top thrills and spills are well past due!
Rick Wakeman’s latest album, A Gallery of the Imagination, is less a conceptual effort (like The Six Wives of Henry VIII or even the recent The Red Planet) than an impressionist suite based on a overall musical approach (as on his Piano Portraits releases). As such, Wakeman’s strong suit — spacious melodies decorated with arpeggios aplenty, then rocked up via finger-busting solo work — is here in abundance, with appropriately sturdy backing by The English Rock Ensemble. But be prepared — the line between prog and middle-of-the-road pop is remarkably thin at times, especially when sentimental lyrics like “A Day Spent on the Pier” are declaimed with stagey brio by vocalist Hayley Sanderson. If you can deal with that, there’s plenty to enjoy here.
Simon Collins and Kelly Nordstrom (best known in the prog world for the Sound of Contact album Dimensionaut with Dave Kerzner and Matt Dorsey) veer in a heavier direction with their new project, eMolecule’s The Architect. The initial blasts of electronica-laced prog-metal, amped up with gusto by Nordstrom, slot in beautifully with the dystopian sci-fi narrative, but it takes a while for Collins’ trademark vocal inflections to peek through the robotic audio processing. Ultimately, the light and shade of “Beyond Belief” and “Awaken” (a ballad in the Phil-to-Simon family tradition) and a building sense of Floydian atmospherics provide the contrast needed for eMolecule’s well-executed sound and fury to fully connect.
I stumbled across the British post-rockers Plank via 2014’s excellent Hivemind. After tackling animals and insects as their previous subjects, the trio widen their horizons here, returning after 9 years for their new concept opus The Future of the Sea. This is a stunning set of limpid, gorgeous instrumentals, weaving elements of psychedelia, prog and math-rock into textures of massive breadth and heft (whether the big guns are being held in reserve or out on parade at any given moment). The closing 6-part suite “Breaking Waves” is a full-on, monolithic delight that mounts to a shattering, satisfying climax. Give this one a try!
The ongoing passing of rock legends tends to direct me toward their most recent releases, especially if I’d dismissed them on initial notice. Thus, when David Crosby died in January, I bit the bullet and picked up his Lighthouse Band’s CD/DVD Live at the Capitol Theatre. Ignoring this beauty, released late last year, was a mistake; it’s a thoroughly enjoyable, even moving document of Crosby’s late career renaissance, here shown in collaboration with Snarky Puppy bassist Michael League and singer/songwriters Becca Stevens and Michelle Willis. Yes, the man’s voice is a shadow of its former self here — but so is his legendary ego; this lovely set may be more of a team effort than Crosby, Stills and Nash (& Young) ever was. The jazz-inflected songwriting, the hushed vocal blend, the lovely sense of understatement and space all make this delicate music blossom and take root in the heart. This tour came to West Michigan on Thanksgiving weekend of 2018; hearing this set, I’m sorry I missed the show! Yes, it’s that good.
I wish I could say the same about 18, the collaboration with Johnny Depp that turned out to be guitar legend Jeff Beck’s swan song; even putting aside Depp’s recent notoriety, there’s a mismatch of tone that makes the album a puzzling listen. Though Beck’s rich melodicism is as compelling as ever, his soaring aesthetic keeps bouncing off the consistently lugubrious song selection and morose vocals from Depp. Usually I’d be all over an album that ricochets from Motown and the Everly Brothers to Killing Joke and The Velvet Underground, but the eclectic selection simply refuses to cohere. Some glorious moments (instrumental takes on the Beach Boys’ “Don’t Talk” and “Caroline, No”, the John Lennon cover “Isolation” that closes the album on a solid footing), but Beck’s light and Depp’s dark cancel each other out far too often for the music to take wing.
In the meantime, the past month has seen multiple first-rate releases in the jazz (and jazz-related) world:
From out of left field, Lake Street Dive singer Rachael Price teams with guitarist/songwriter Vilray Blair Bolles for I Love A Love Song! This second duo effort pairs Price’s well-honed jazz and pop sensibilities with whimsical Vilray originals in the Great American Songbook tradition. Well-upholstered arrangements from a finely tuned large combo and a boxy yet lush recorded sound set up the retro feel; but ultimately it’s Price’s subtle, in-the-pocket sense of swing that sells the music, often breezy and melancholy at the same time.
Piano legend Brad Mehldau has never hesitated to incorporate rock songs into the jazz canon; with Your Mother Should Know, he makes a program of Beatles tunes (plus David Bowie’s “Life on Mars” — it originally featured Rick Wakeman on piano!) sound not just obvious, but inevitable in the idiom. Above all, this is fun, albeit often of a serious stripe; from the headlong boogie woogie of “I Saw Her Standing There” through the thickened harmonies of “I Am the Walrus” and hovering balladry of “Here There and Everywhere” to the stretched-out gospel of “Baby’s in Black” and the ecstatic extended solo of “Golden Slumbers”, Mehldau’s instincts for where to take these songs by Lennon, McCartney and Harrison are unerring, his invention refreshing and often astonishing, his technique impeccable. Absolutely worth a listen, whether you’re a Fabs fan or not.
Are improvisational Australian trio The Necks “jazz”? Hard to say; but while their music resists categorization (or even description), their latest release Travelis as attractive a summation of what they do as anything. Four pieces of music, each one made from scratch at the start of a day in the studio, building from a minimal idea that gains momentum, complexity and impact through repetition and variation of ideas, dynamics and sounds. “Signal” rambles, “Forming” smolders, “Imprinting” shimmers and “Bloodstream” flares up for a riveting double-album journey. Is it world-inflected rock? Ambient jazz? Something else? I frankly don’t care; I just know that after an online listen, I had to buy it. (And kudos to Vertigo Music of Grand Rapids for having it in stock!)
Progarchy 